“Didn’t expect you to wake up this early.”
Harry sheepishly mumbled the moment yet you still heard him, not knowing what time it was yet he knows it’s too early for you to wake up, an unexplainable expression on his face.
He just got back home from literally buying the ingredients in his last-minute recipe he thought of hours before that bothered him in his sleep.
It’s your birthday, and Harry finds no point to not make it feel less than what he knows you deserve.
You reminded, your lips pursing as a brush arised in your cheeks, your eyes briefly looking over to the average-sized box that’s wrapped with a bow that’s now neatly removed from it, him being the one to be quickly flustered.
He put it there just in case you woke up while he wasn’t there just so you wouldn’t be disappointed being pressed about it, a sheepish smirk on his face as the expression on your face that mirrored his didn’t help any more.
“Your journal — you put it there.”
Harry set his figure down next to you on the bed, his hand scratching the back of his head as he looked over you in an expression only you would get that’s a mix of both happiness and embarrassment.
“Yeah, my journal.”
You let out a laugh, draping your arms around his body that made him shove his face into his hands, knowing that he’s nervous whenever he rephrased what you said to avoid anymore confrontation.
“Love, come on. Look at me.”
Harry poutingly obliged, unable to look at you straight in the eyes as he’s in the verge of laughing too, his eyes firm on your thigh.
“You filled up a journal, for me?”
He shrugged, a look of disbelief in his face as he’s confused of why you would think he wouldn’t, grasping the priceless expression on your face as it’s forever embedded in him.
“This — this is what you brought along all the time?”
The playfulness in your voice was gone, your tone being so much in the side of awe that it’s cracking, holding the thick and hardbound crimson journal with your hands, filled to the brim with some notes and memorabilia stuck in between them.
Harry’s looking at you as he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, a little chuckle being let out of him as he cooed, his heart being undeniably warmed up and full.
“You deserve it.”
Your hand was brought along to cover your mouth, a cry being let out as Harry was quick to engulf you within his arms, the sound of his laughter being muffled as he pressed his lips upon your head and let yours be nuzzed into his neck, your hands skimming through the pages carefully.
He’s happy, rocking you back and forth into his arms as he’s contented that he went through his plan of putting his journal of you in there even if he was hesistant at first.
It’s filled with entries of you and everything that related as what he started the moment he saw you, each one having a date at the top and each one too having something that reminded him of you.
Harry didn’t realize he was crying until you looked up at him with a grin, your grip being tighter on him as he found no reason in complaining from it.
“Happy birthday, love.”
He said, humming against your hair as he breathed heavily from enthusiasm, his hand rubbing circles on your back.
Harry looked down, a smile forming as he’s already contented with what he has, looking forward to these moments as it’s something for him to stand by.
“S'another year for m'girl who’s going to become my wife, right?”